Poem: 70
Saturday, 25 February 2017
Nascondimi
Hide me, hide me
Steal me away!
I don’t want
To be seen, heard
Rejected, accepted or
Even noticed.
I don’t write for them,
But for you, by you, through you.
Cachez-moi, and scramble my name.
Me esconda, and tie my tongue.
Spare me, spare me
Take it far from me.
Nietzsche, you exhort me
To become a lover of destiny
Amor fati?
No —
Contemptum fati!
Like Jonah, I run far, far
From who I am.
Disguising, in humilities false
Great prides, great fears
Of who I am, for what I am called.
I would rather drown in mystery
Than see what is clear as day.
Rather range these northern wilds
Than be brought home to the clear ringing of silver trumpets.
Rather suffer in failing hardship
Than take what is easily mine.
Not ready
Not ready for responsibility
Master, let me always remain apprentice,
A child in love with humble chores, native freedoms.
Atlassian glory terrifies me, I find it abhorrent.
Fortune, she wants me
Wants me to dominate her
But I am a timid, insecure lover
Intimidated by her beauty
If she wants me, she’ll have
to force it upon me.
Stop chasing me
Hound of heaven!
Let me be left alone:
A monk upon the blue mountain,
Cloud hidden
Whereabouts unknown.
No clients, no disciples
No fans, no followers, no critics
No family, no friends, neither enemies
No wealth, fame, or beauty — free, free, freedom!
Bless me, father, with the bliss of
Nothing! Verily, verily
I say unto you: I desire Nothing!
Fill me with an abundance of nothingness.
From nothing I came, to
Nothing I shall return.
Contemplating divine mysteries
Working in secret, alone, uninterrupted.
Burn me when I am dead.
Scatter my ashes,
Blow on my mandala
Until all my life’s work
Is dust.
